The Past She Hid
by Nomi nomnom
Summary: Valkyrie has grown up and is no longer involved in the magical society. She is now being forced to work with her old partner again, and she is beginning to remember times and people that she would rather stay buried in the depths of her mind.
1. This Is The Present

**Hello there readers! I've written a few fanfics before, but not for Skulduggery Pleasant. i did start one ages ago, then came back to it and completely forgot where i was going with it :P**

**OH WELL.**

**This is a short story i wrote for an english class. The girl had no name, and is still un-named in the story, but it is implied that she is Valkyrie (if you didn't already work that out ;) )  
So yeah, i'm not sure if i should continue it on or just leave it as an open ending... R+R would be fantastic :)**

She sat at her computer, the screen reflecting a flickering light onto her face. A half finished cup of coffee sat steaming on a pile of unopened folders, the strong aroma wafting through the large office. Her team had long since left, and she felt a drop of loneliness sliding down her throat. She turned her head to a framed photograph showing her and her then-friend, Skulduggery, Tanith, Ghastly...Fletcher. She felt the loneliness catch in her throat, and send one of its droplets down her cheek. They had been the days, before it had all fallen apart. Before Fletcher had succumbed to the madness and killed himself, before Tanith and Ghastly had moved to England, before Skulduggery had been promoted, leaving her alone. She felt the sadness well up inside her, but she kept it solidly harnessed. It was definitely getting late, she ought to go home. She needed a chat which Gordon would happily provide. Just as she began to tiredly collect her belongings, the phone rang. She reached out with the air and sent her phone zooming into her hand. She smiled momentarily, remembering the days when she used magic all the time. Now it was just a guilty pleasure, something she cultivated only to pass the time. Skulduggery was on the other end of the phone, telling her to get out into the field. They had been given a tip off, and she was the only one available to go and check it out. She begrudgingly agreed to go, and hung up on him. She often wondered if he missed her, working up top with important men in well made suits. She knew that she missed him, but she was careful not to show it too much. He was her superior now. What with his double job, up top in both the mortal and...other… world. She never went there now. She was no longer needed, so she didn't see the point in going. She grabbed her leathers that Tanith had long ago given her and briskly stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

As she slipped on her helmet and zipped up her jacket, cold slime was trickling down the insides of her stomach. She got on her bike and started the engine, her mind willing her body to stop the process which was driving her to the building. The gentle hum of the engine on neutral calmed her slightly and then she took off, speeding down the street and round the corner. She rode recklessly to try and shake the feeling of angst from her mind. She wished her team could have joined her; more and more, recently, she had begun to find that the things she was seeing were reminding her of things she wished she could forget. Tanith, Ghastly, the other world, her sister… she blinked and quickly turned her bike. She skimmed against the wall, her black pants wearing away against the rough brick. She swerved away from the wall and focused on driving mildly safely. When she arrived at the house, the sky had darkened to a navy blue. The house looked empty and cold, like it hadn't been touched for many years. She pulled out her phone and called her team , saying she wouldn't be long. Then she called Skulduggery, and told him that she didn't appreciate being brought out for prank calls.

She sighed and then pushed open the door which creaked open on one hinge.

* * *

The air in the house was musty and thick, like the inside of a vacuum cleaner. All was silent except for a quiet whirring that sounded like a fan. She slowly made her way through the house. She was puzzled. All the rooms, dead quiet and dusty, hadn't provoked any memories. It was slightly disconcerting, but weirdly enjoyable all the same. Then she came to a door. This was interesting, because thus far she had only come across empty doorways. There was flickering light coming through the crack between the crumbling wood frame and the strangely new looking door. She shouldered the door heavily and it sprung open, sending her stumbling at the doorway. She steadied herself against the frame and looked at the room.

It was dark, save for the image being projected onto the wall. Specks of dust were reflecting the light, little floating stars swirling in the air. The image was dark, the silhouette of a small boy running through a grey-black suburbia. As she entered the room, she tried to make out the shapes of furniture or people, but to no avail. The darkness was complete, pressing in on all sides of the girl as she watched the projection. The boy walked across a black landscape shaped by black buildings and deserted homes. She watched in mild fascination mingled with sorrow as the images awoke memories within her, and suddenly tears were rolling down her cheeks like marbles down a slope. The boy jumped from a ledge and landed on a surface that exploded, a bear trap springing from the ground and piercing the child's figure. The shape went limp and she looked away with a grim look on her face. As the shape of the boy fell to its knees, she noticed a crack in the wall. She approached it and put her hand on it, feeling the cracked plaster under her fingers. Then the image stopped, the lights went off, and she was lost, plunged into sudden darkness that was thick as treacle. She gulped for air as the darkness smothered her, and she felt the crack under her fingers. It felt eerie and cold, and she traced it to a sudden protrusion. The projector flicked on again, and she found herself staring at the hilt of a thick kitchen knife.


	2. A Reunion

**I got some reviews, and they told me to keep going. So i did! I think it may get a little hard to follow at the end... My lovely boyfriend read through it and said it was fine, so it probably is. :)**

**R+R please, and also tell me if you have any ideas for where it should go ;)**

* * *

She did what every respectable citizen would have done; she backed away slowly. It took her a moment to draw breath again and, when she did, she realised she had been holding her breath already, and let out a lungful of air in a rush. The projector continued to flicker, filling half of the room with eerie grey light. Light that bounced of the slit of silver sticking out between the hilt and the wall. There was something not right about it, something that played in the back of her mind. She stood and stared at the hilt for a minute then blinked and shook her head. She should be looking for other clues, or whatever it was she was looking for. She looked down the wall to the floor under the knife. There was a small cut in the fabric of the carpet that, without her magical background, she wouldn't have noticed. It was a very neat cut, not at all a rip. She put on some gloves and lightly fingered the flap of fabric. It was strange, something didn't feel right about it. It was carpet fabric, It should have been stiff, but for some reason it wasn't. It was stiff, but also wasn't. She frowned and looked around out of habit, then pulled a small pouch out of her coat pocket. She dipped her fingers in the pouch and brought out a pinch of colourless powder. She straightened up and sprinkled the powder over the hilt of the knife. As it fell, the powder shimmered in rainbows and the woman smiled slightly. She did enjoy using little tricks like that, they reminded her of the times that she and Skulduggery had spent looking over crime scenes together. Before… before something. She wasn't letting herself remember anything before she had acquired this job. She mentally shook herself (she was having to do this a lot nowadays) and pulled out her phone. It was time to call in the important ones- or rather, one- who would now be forced to take this case by himself. If it involved the other world, this was no longer her area. She dialled the number and waited for Skulduggery to answer. He picked up and she gave him an earful about how she didn't want anything to do with this case anymore. He politely enquired why, and then quickly dropped that line of enquiry and told her to wait for him there. She agreed to wait and he hung up. She sat down on the floor and began to watch the projection, not even thinking about what she was doing.

* * *

Skulduggery approached the house. It was Very Quiet (and deserving of the capitals) and he was immediately subject to a feeling he hadn't felt for a while; worry. He felt it in his bones. As he crossed the threshold he tapped twin tattoos on his collarbones, and his skin retracted. As he slowly walked through the house, he pulled out his revolver. It felt friendly in is hand, like a handshake with an old acquaintance. The whole house seemed to be deserted, and Skulduggery got more nervous. Where was she? He paused for a second and heard a sharp intake of breath. His head whipped round to find the source of the sound. He silently slipped through the dark hallways and rooms until he came to a door that was strangely new, hanging a tiny bit ajar. He slowly pushed it open and his heart melted at what he saw.

She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at a flickering screen. Her already dark eyes were darker than usual and glassy with tears. He followed her gaze and then noticed the image being projected onto the wall. A boy or rather, the silhouette of a boy, was hanging from a grey black building, his head caught in the silhouette of a telephone wire. The screen went black, the lights went off and the room was filled with a thick and dreadful silence that Skulduggery nervously swatted at. The projector whirred. The light came back on. The boy began running again. Skulduggery looked back at her, and noticed a small pouch on the carpet beside her. He approached her and knelt down next to her. She looked at him, and he reached for the pouch, taking it from her side. She looked down and stood up, saying she should go now. She pointed out the knife in the wall, and made to leave the room.  
Skulduggery quickly looked the room over, and then called the girl back. (To him, she would always be a girl, no matter how old she was.) She came back in impatiently. She wanted to go home, she wanted to ride her bike. Maybe she didn't want to go home; she just wanted to ride her bike all night. Fast and reckless, just like Tanith taught her to.  
Skulduggery pointed out the fact that there was no blood, and she retorted heavily that he had no skin. She realised now, though, what it had been that was odd about the knife. Of course there was no blood! Why had she even bothered getting freaked out about it? Then she remembered the cut in the fabric, and pointed THAT out to him. The skeleton pulled a pinch of powder out of the pouch and sprinkled it lightly over the cut in the fabric where it shimmered, once again, in a multitude of colours. He ran one gloved finger over the neat slice and then tried to lift the flap. It was weird, he commented, how the fabric didn't seem quite right…

She looked down at the ground again and noticed this time that the crack in the wall reached to the floor. She knelt to the ground again in front of the crack and felt down it to the carpet. There, meeting the jagged edge of the plaster was a neat slice almost identical to the one that Skulduggery was presently inspecting. She called him over, and he inspected that one too. Then he suggested that they try to pull the carpet up from the two corner flaps. She took one corner and Skulduggery took the other, then both of them pulled.  
It didn't work.  
The carpet stayed put.

They tried again, and again. She was ready to give up, but Skulduggery insisted that they keep trying.  
They tried and tried and tried.  
Eventually, as she was pulling, she lost her grip and tumbled away, cursing. She steadied herself in a crouch and as she tried to stand, she felt stabbing pain in her back. Her patience snapped, and she cursed again, louder. She clicked her fingers and sent an angry fireball at the carpet. Skulduggery shouted her name in frustration and backed away from the burning carpet as she watched it fry and vaporize in satisfaction. She focused on straightening up, and then made her way towards the door, saying she had to go home.

Just as she reached the front door of the house, she heard Skulduggery shout her name again. She sighed angrily and stomped back through the house, ready to shout her lungs out at him. She got to the room and stared.

* * *

In the middle of the room, there was a hole that looked about half a metre deep, and it was filled with black liquid that rippled as the last of the section of carpet burned away. She looked up at Skulduggery who gave her a proud thumbs up. She glowed inside, and then fought it down as she turned her attention to the pool. She knelt beside it and dipped her finger gingerly in. She was puzzled by the viscosity of it, she had thought (and hoped) it would have the consistency of water. This was more like… Her finger stopped an inch from her lips, and she sniffed it instead.  
Skulduggery was watching all this with his head tilted in curiosity. He hadn't seen her work for so long, and she had changed so much both in methods and thought process.  
He chuckled lightly as she gagged, and then stopped when he saw that she wasn't playing around. (She used to do that for fun, he remembered) He stepped carefully over to her and she looked into his eye sockets. That liquid wasn't black, she said.  
It was red.

* * *

**There you go, i'm hoping you guessed what the liquid was. As i said, i'm not sure about how the end turned out, but its there now. let me know what you think :)**


	3. Starting Again

**5:29 PM**

**I'm late, i know. Late with a capital L. I have had this chapter written for about... a very long time, maybe 3 or 4 months, but because it's so short i was reluctant to post it. My next chapter is ****unfinished, i've hit a dead end in my creative maze, so i'll post this and try to finish the next chapter soon :)**

* * *

Skulduggery tilted his head to the side. He enquired as to whether, by red, she meant straight double-concentrate red cordial. She struggled not to smile and rolled her eyes, telling him to shut up and be serious for once. He coughed and said that of course he knew that it was blood, and that he was only trying to be funny. It reminded her of the times she and Skulduggery would spend on crime scenes when she was younger, and how she got so annoyed at him for making her laugh when they were supposed to be being serious. She sighed and wondered aloud whose it was. Skulduggery went for broke and suggested the guy who got killed. She slapped his skull and then recoiled, remembering not to hit her superiors. Skulduggery tilted his head curiously and she continued on, looking at her shoes, about the numerous people who had been killed while she had been investigating this case. She looked down at the pool and wondered how deep it was. There was nowhere near enough light to try and make out the bottom, and even if there was the blood was so thick it might have been impossible to tell anyway.

It was incredibly quiet for a very short time. A silence that was soon broken by a loud thump from outside. Skulduggery's skull snapped up, and then pushed her to the ground as the wall exploded behind him. They lay still for a moment as the destroyer of a large portion of the house crept through, probably searching for them. She lay quietly underneath Skulduggery, looking up through a gap in the rubble. The projector light was, somehow, still flickering. She could see the light, but everything was clouded, blurry, and… a strange colour. She blinked a few times, but nothing got any better so she continued pretending to not exist as a dark shape walked between her and the light. It paused and she drew slowly back into the floor behind her holding her breath. The shape moved on, and she silently breathed relief out of her lungs; a feat that she now discovered was quite difficult.

After having lay there for a long time, longer than she could count, she felt the pressure that Skulduggery had been keeping on her lift, and she sat up hurriedly (and slightly embarrassedly). She coughed quietly into her hand, and then more loudly as she felt the blood rise up her throat. Skulduggery looked at her, and quickly rushed towards her. She tried to avert his attention by asking about what happened to the pool, but she really couldn't speak. Nor could she properly see. She coughed up the rest of the blood, and then hoarsely asked about the pool, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Skulduggery chuckled humourlessly, and handed her a handkerchief. She gratefully took it and gently dabbed at her unseeing eyes. Half the house was missing, and the sun was beginning to come up. As her vision slowly returned to her, Skulduggery explained that the pool had been emptied. On top of everything else. She froze, and stopped dabbing her eyes. She had just enough sight to determine separate colours, and in the dawn light she could see red against the white cotton. Her eyes began to water, washing the rest of the blood out of her eyes. She scolded her colleague for not telling her that she had been covered in blood. It was disgusting. He laughed at her, and she soon began laughing as well. They stood looking at the rising orange glow in the wreckage of the house. She mentioned that the knife would probably be really difficult to find, seeing as the house had been blown to bits and the pool had covered everything. Skulduggery commented on how, seeing as it was a really important bit of evidence, she would probably get lynched by her team. She reflected aloud on how no one would ever know about it seeing as the house, the knife and the pool had been conveniently exploded, thus ending their immediate investigation.

As they stood there amidst the rubble, they both came to the conclusion that it was back to the drawing board.


	4. To Work

**YAY I HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER! woohoo. Yes I'm excited. **

**I haven't really gotten into my main character's past yet, I know, but its coming.  
Next chapter.  
I promise.**

**School is keeping me a little bit busy at the moment, but after next week end of course exams, I'll be finished and I can write all I want. It will be glorious.**

* * *

She shook her head lightly, gritting her teeth and scratching her cheek with her nails. Skulduggery looked at her curiously and went back to his work drawing up a plan of the house. She smiled weakly at her other colleagues; Jim, Grunge, Eric and Stephanie (there had been a bit of an issue with Stephanie when she arrived. As the new girl who noticed that their team leader was the only other girl in the team, she didn't seem to fully appreciate her superior's work (or authority), and so had to be politely but firmly reminded of her position. That _had_ been a funny day). It was getting late in the afternoon, and they hadn't had any new ideas all day. Grunge (affectionately called that by his parents when, in actual fact, his name was George) had given up at lunchtime and sat down to play some game or other. It had been this game which had caused a spurt of hot memories to flood through her head, burning the inside of her mind. The game was called Slender and Grunge was obsessed with collecting pages of some sort. Stephanie had rudely commented that he should be looking through his empty mind for pages of information and ideas, but she was quickly reprimanded. It had been three days since the explosion of the pool, the knife and the house, and Skulduggery had requested to "supervise" the girl's team. She had vouched to get the case moved off her and her team's shoulders and have it given to someone else, but as soon as Skulduggery had put in his request she gave up. Being as stubborn as she was, she had forbidden her team of saying anything about her "headaches" to their new supervisor. All but Stephanie had complied, and the rest of the team had now made it their responsibility to make sure she never got anywhere close to Skulduggery. The rest of the team understood their leader's secrecy; they had been there when the two, the inseparable duo, had split up. It hadn't been a sad break up, as such, more just the end of something that had a history.  
Skulduggery coughed politely as he stood over her desk. The girl looked up and Skulduggery grinned his skeleton grin as handed over a plan of the house. In the top corner was a little box with dots labelled "dust" in it, and they had been periodically spaced throughout the whole page. He thought it would be funny, he said. His once-partner laughed softly and rolled her eyes at the subtle humour. Stephanie thought this an excellent opportunity and walked over to see what the two were laughing at in the completely unnecessary manner of a teacher checking on her students work. As she approached, Grunge and Eric beat her to the pair and begun a conversation about where they would go from there, improvising a far-fetched plan wherein more houses would be blown up. Plan foiled, Stephanie did the "stupid thing" and joined the conversation anyway. She opened her mouth to ask whether her leader's headaches had gone, and subsequently got punched in the face by Grunge. He turned back around and shrugged, she had it coming to her.

Five vehicles sped across the city. Two motorbikes, one Bentley, one black van, one Razor scooter. That was Grunge. He had insisted. It was a cold night, very cliché for what they were about to do. She hated clichés. It was nice to finally be doing something, she had to admit, especially not alone this time. The headache that was swimming beneath the surface was being held down by the warmth of her companions. All the same, they could surely have chosen a less dramatic time to go back to the rubble that had once been a house.

On arrival, Grunge flipped his scooter off the wall and jumped, landing slightly immaturely on his feet, making his boss smile. As Skulduggery jumped out of the Bentley, Jim skidded to a halt and Eric opened the side of the van, revealing a large number of screens. He yelled to Grunge to hurry up and get in, why did he get to ride his scooter while Eric had to drive his techy van? Their mini squabble was cut short by a quiet moan from their leader. Grunge rushed to her, asking if she was ok. She gritted her teeth and said yes, don't let on to Skulduggery. Grunge gave her a quick hug to show he understood, and went back to Eric in the van. Skulduggery ventured over to where Jim was standing and asked why wasn't Stephanie with them again? Jim asked hadn't she already explained, Skulduggery replied no she hadn't, and went over to ask her. She looked up, her dark eyes boring into the eye sockets. Because Stephanie was an annoying little brat and was having a bit of a sleep, remember? Skulduggery sighed and put his arm around her, noting the slightest shudder that his touch had provoked. Jim came to her other side and squeezed her shoulder gently, giving her a sneaky sympathetic look so that Skulduggery wouldn't see. The three of them walked slowly towards the house.

Inside the van, Eric was sitting in front of the main screen and Grunge was making a cup of coffee. He was humming The Girl from Ipanema.

Under the house, a man was asleep.

* * *

**Also, a quick footnote, what do you think of giving Her a Significant Other? R&R :)**


	5. Someone Else

**Well hello once again readers. These chapters get longer and longer, don't they? Oh well, that's ok. **

**This chapter is a little messy, apologies for any issues with recognising characters.**

**R+R, let me know if there's any ideas you want put in somewhere or anything. :)**

* * *

There had been someone else.

She pondered it as she lay in the back seat of the Bentley. She was avoiding the eyes of Grunge who was gently bandaging a large hole in her shoulder, and looking out at the orange sunrise instead. She was glad she had chosen to wear a slightly looser (and more comfortable) top rather than her usual tight leathers; it meant she hadn't had to undress any more than rolling up her sleeves. If she had been wearing her leathers, she would have tanked it out and waited until she was back at the office and then found some better clothes to struggle into. She _definitely _wouldn't have let anyone treat her. Even if it had meant riding home one-armed.  
As it was, Skulduggery had insisted that one of the boys treat her instantly and, seeing as he had the smallest vehicle, Grunge scored a ride in the back of the Bentley. Not that it was a score, of course, because his leader was hurt. Very much so. So hurt she was delusional, saying how little it hurted and stuff. He received a weak slap on the arm for voicing these opinions, and sighed as he continued to bandage and strap her upper arm and shoulder. How had she even done this? He thought back to the events of earlier that night.

The three had walked in and the little dots on the screen had blipped, showing that their trackers were working. They had walked through most of the rubble of the house, and the blips had stayed consistent in their blipping. Until a magnetic flare had appeared. A tiny green dot at the end of a metaphorical corridor. The blips had blipped and moved quicker, there had been very loud bangs, and at that point two blips had ceased their blipping whilst the third turned to a solid, continuous buzz. Buzz of doom, Eric had said. The buzzing blip began moving slowly towards the exit of the hallway and then the two other blips appeared and the three sped up a little. There was a larger bang, and the van had shaken. Check on them, Eric had said. Grunge had opened a cupboard in the van and pulled out the beauties from within; twelve handcrafted throwing knives, made specially for him. He had flung open the side of the van and slit his shirt, creating six makeshift sheaths, and slid his knives into them. He had dashed to the entrance and been thrown down by the sudden emergence of Skulduggery carrying Her, saying to hurry up and find Jim. He didn't have to go far, Jim was leaning against a wall looking around cautiously. They left the house and met Skulduggery outside. He had her in his arms like a child, except no child should look like she did right now. Skulduggery had tenderly lain her in the back of his car, completely disregarding the fact that his precious Bentley would now have bloodstains all over the seats. He had taken one look at the knives about Grunge's person, and had commanded that he start treating her. Five minutes later they left, Jim on his bike, Eric taking the girl's bike and the scooter in the van, Grunge and the girl in the back of the Bentley.

Grunge looked down at the girl who was pointedly looking elsewhere. How had she done this? The answer was simple.  
There must have been someone else.

* * *

Part of Skulduggery's job was to deal with team arguments, she pointed out huffily. Leaning heavily on Grunge as they got out of the car at nine thirty, she grumbled as they walked ever closer to the annoying little brat that they had left behind. Jim and Eric arrived and left their vehicles immediately to join their team leader and Skulduggery. They didn't have to walk far. Stephanie was angry as she opened the door. She was angrier still as she stomped across the car park, and her angriness was higher than ever as she got right up close to her boss. Her angriness surely reached its peak as she heavily slapped her superior across the cheek, and then quickly subsided as she rubbed her hand gingerly. Grunge placed a hand carefully on the girl's shoulder, and struggled not to laugh, while Jim and Eric cracked up quietly behind him. Skulduggery looked from one woman to the other, confused in the way that only a man could be when confronted with seemingly pointless acts of violence between women. He watched in awe as his ex-partner stared down her opponent, stared her down so efficiently that she almost shrank back with the sheer fear that the anger's subsequent action was worthy of. She then gently but firmly led Grunge away, Jim and Eric following behind in silent hysterics. Skulduggery was left with Stephanie, who looked at him. He looked at her, wondering why she was looking at him as if expecting praise. I hope you don't want praise for that, he said darkly. Stephanie looked as if she had just been hit upside the head with a tree. Well of course, she said as if talking to a five year old, didn't you see the way she treated me? Skulduggery carefully didn't punch her politely in the face to show how much he cared, and then turned and walked after the others. He didn't like her, he'd decided.

* * *

It was ten 'o'clock in the morning. Grunge sat at his desk, lovingly polishing his knives, as he had been doing for the past half hour, while listening to his superior talk the nights events through with Skulduggery. Just as a heated argument began to boil, Eric dramatically entered the room holding fresh cinnamon donuts and coffee. With cries of breakfast is served, Eric pranced hyper actively around the room, placing a bag with three donuts and a coffee in front of each person. Jim looked at Eric with quiet amusement in his eyes, commenting that it was way past Eric's bedtime, and he should go have a lie down somewhere. Eric giggled hilariously in response causing Stephanie to roll her eyes and sigh. Skulduggery glared at her, then whispered to his partner how much he really didn't like her. Just as she was about to reply, she looked across the room to see Stephanie snatching one of Grunge's precious knives and striding across the room towards Eric. She stood up suddenly (hurting her bandaged shoulder) as Eric looked up, still giggling feebly. Stephanie pointed the knife at him, and asked him to please shut up so that she could concentrate on her work, or so help her she would be forced to throw the knife. Eric stood up and swore at her loudly, causing her to jump a little in alarm as generally calm, kind Eric split a mental seam. She yelled at him to shut up and, inexperience painfully obvious, threw the knife at him. It spun through the air as the team leader yelled loudly at her, and out of nowhere another knife, thrown expertly this time, shot through the air like a dart and hit it side on. The knives shot off to the side and clattered to the floor. Stephanie slowly turned to look at Grunge who was standing looking at his shoes, holding his ten other knives. He looked up at Stephanie with a dark expression, and asked her if she thought it was funny, throwing knives. Stephanie, who had been proved to generally not know when to stop, thoughtfully said yeah, it was pretty funny. Cool as well, she added hastily as Grunge advanced, and their boss slowly began to walk towards them. Oh funny, Grunge grinned manically, how funny? Stephanie surprised everyone with a burst of courage that caused her to say something like oh for goodness sake, its not like there's any skill involved in chucking knives. Their superior quickly came between them as Grunge began flicking out knives, and Grunge cooled and walked over to where the thrown knives had landed. The room watched in silence as he picked up the knives and walked a few steps looking intently at the ground. He stood up and looked at Eric who was sitting down scowling, and told Stephanie that she was lucky that he had cut the knife off, because otherwise there would have been tears.  
For some reason Stephanie took this as a vote of confidence in her knife-throwing skills, and bit out at how he wasn't worried for his colleague more. He grinned back and growled no, that knife could have gotten scratched on the wall, and for that you'd have to pay. He walked over to his boss and Skulduggery and beckoned to Jim and Eric who stood and the five of them picked up their donuts and coffees and left Stephanie alone. Something had changed, she thought. Grunge was never this dark, or clever for that matter. She never had liked the boy, she had always though him rather dim-witted. Jim was the loud one, and Eric was usually the more sensible one. It was like they had all changed roles, and it was unsettling. She had woken up on the floor, remembered what had happened and noted the time, eleven fifteen. Everyone had left, and then they had come back. And the only noticeable difference was that everyone had changed. Surely they hadn't been anywhere that life changing had they? Perhaps it hadn't been a thing that they'd gone to see.

Perhaps there had been someone else.

* * *

**Another thing you should let me know: Should I begin using her name rather than continuing to find other things to call her? **


End file.
